


Obligated

by chiefharbour



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Love Confessions, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23179009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiefharbour/pseuds/chiefharbour
Summary: You and your best friend, Hopper, spend a little quality time alone at the cabin. A little bit of teasing is all it takes to get him all flustered.
Relationships: Jim "Chief" Hopper & Reader, Jim "Chief" Hopper & You, Jim "Chief" Hopper/Reader, Jim "Chief" Hopper/You
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	Obligated

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something to hold y’all over in the wake off the madness that is COVID-19. I’ll certainly have a lot more free time on my hands, so I’ll just be working on The Learning Curve during my free time. 
> 
> In the mean time, I’m always accepting HC requests, so send me one on my tumblr!

“Dammit, Hopper! Don’t be such a grump!” you groaned, yanking on your best friend’s arms as he remained steadfast in the comfiest couch cushions this side of the Mississippi River. “Just one dance, I promise!”

“But I don’t wanna!” he groaned back, pulling his arms back to himself with all of the force he could muster from himself. He hated to admit it, but you always rivaled his strength when it came to tug-o-war battles like this one.

You released his hands with an aggravated huff, immediately crossing your arms and cocking your hip, “You’re seriously such a stick in the mud, you know that?”

“Oh, boo-hoo,” he mocked, raising his hand to mimic playing the world’s smallest violin. You rolled your eyes, returning to your position on the vacant recliner.

“If you don’t like dancing, then I don’t understand why most of your records are so poppy,” you retorted with a bite, pulling your knees up against your chest once you fitted back into the cushions of the chair.

“Most of those aren’t even mine,” he replied defensively, rolling up the sleeves of his red flannel button up to reveal a set of incredibly muscular forearms. You mustered up the remnants of your self-control to not stare at the newly exposed flesh as he continued. “The one playing? The one that _you_ picked out? It’s El’s. Do I look like the kind of man who listens to Cyndi Lauper in his free time, kid?”

You couldn’t resist the snort that escaped your nose, immediately covering your face with your hands in embarrassment, “Okay, okay. Fair enough.”

He tilted his head as he looked at you with soft eyes, a smirk playing at his lips before his tongue darted out to lick across them. You blushed lightly, averting your gaze from his eyes. It had only gotten worse over the last month, the simple act of his eyes locking on yours making you weak in the knees. 

He’d gotten incredibly thin over the last few months, his jaw chiseling out sharply and his body, now eons skinnier than when you had met him, was now more fit than most men’s. He shaved his head and face of all hair in September, a small token made in memory of his daughter for Leukemia Awareness Month. He didn’t even look like the same man anymore, but _his eyes_. His eyes would never change.

You had moved into town almost a year ago after dropping out of college. A small town seemed like the perfect prescription for your situation, the ideal escape from your own small suburban life back in Michigan. The search for a job didn’t take very long, stumbling across a bright red _For Hire_ sign dangling outside of Melvald’s only two hours after driving into Hawkins for the first time. 

You’d met Hopper about two weeks into your residency; your coworker, Joyce, introduced the two of you after he had come into the store to rant about his daughter’s boyfriend. You’d found it endearing, even offering him some wisdom on how to approach the situation. You were immediately smitten with him, and, since that day, the two of you were practically inseparable. 

He would always joke around with you about the difference in your ages, saying how blessed he was to have such a young and vibrant person taking care of her “elders” like you were. You’d always roll your eyes, silently mewling over his usage of the word “kid.” But, you were just friends.

At least, that’s what you’d convinced yourself of. 

Despite how much you wanted to pursue a relationship with him, you knew that you were too young for him; he would never take you seriously. Jesus, you were only six years older than his daughter. As far as you were concerned, he only saw you as just another kid in his life. A kid that he could share beers and curse with during the night whenever El was out of the cabin. A night like this one.

“I know you’re on some new mystical diet or whatever,” you started, your voice skeptical as you tilted your head at him. “But, your guest is not. She is very hungry and demands that you order a pizza.”

“Oh, is that so?” he asked, chuckling lightly at your demands.

“Yep. Pepperoni and sausage,” you stated plainly. “Breadsticks and garlic butter are also appreciated, but they are not required.”

“You know what would be better than all that?” he asked with wide eyes, leaning forward with his hands on his thighs.

You quirked your eyebrows, hoping he would mention picking up Enzo’s as a treat, “ _What?_ ”

“Baked chicken breasts, peas, and sweet potatoes,” he hummed, closing his eyes and moaning at the thought.

“What happened to you, Hopper?” you asked, shaking your head playfully. “The Hopper I know would have devoured two pizzas in one sitting.”

“The Hopper you _knew_ almost ripped his pant seam every time he bent over.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Salad Man, but not all of us enjoy the diets of bunny rabbits,” you replied sarcastically.

“Fuck off, kid,” he rolled his eyes, rising from his spot on the couch before walking towards the telephone in the kitchen. “I’m assuming you want dessert, too.”

“Look at you,” you replied sweetly, peering your eyes over the recliner to watch him. “A man after my own heart.”

“Jesus, I’m about to spend so much money on your spoiled ass,” he murmured under his breath, shaking his head before a smile spread across his face to let you know he was just kidding. 

He dialed the number he’d recognized by heart, months of dieting failing to dent the endless rolodex of fast food establishments in his brain. You watched him with cautious eyes, admiring how sweetly he spoke whenever he was on the telephone with strangers. As he rattled off your order, you sighed to yourself. Each day you found it harder and harder not to fall in love with this man. And each day, you failed.

“Alright, your greasy pie is on the way,” he declared, turning to walk to the fridge to retrieve a beer. “You want one?”

“Please,” you replied, turning your head back forward before staring in your lap, you fingers idly playing with the strings dripping from your fringed shorts.

He returned quickly, handing you an ice cold can of Schiltz before tapping your can with his in a silent toast, “For one night, and _one night only_ , I will splurge and eat with you, but I _swear to god_ I’m cooking the next time you come over.”

“Yes, sir, Chief, sir,” you saluted, licking your lips before sipping your beer.

Your cheeks reddened as your eyes caught him staring at your lips, his mouth never leaving his own can as he drank in solidarity with you. He noticed your gaze, immediately averting his stare before sitting down on the coffee table in front of you. 

“Why did you all of a sudden start eating healthy, anyway?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows in genuine curiosity. “Not that you don’t look good now; you _do_. It’s just…man, I don’t even know.”

“Oh, you liked me when I was fat?” he chuckled, sipping at the can with a teasingly playful glint in his eyes.

“I mean you _were_ a lot more cuddly,” you shrugged before winking at him. “You probably could have warmed me up in the event of a blizzard.”

“I could still warm you up, kid,” he chuckled, placing his near-empty can on the table next to his leg.

“Not as well as you could have before,” you pointed at him, tossing the rest of the amber liquid back before tossing the empty can at him. “You ain’t got no more blubber.”

He shook his head, catching the can and placing it next to his own, “I don’t know, kid. El really wanted to try out vegetarianism, but that’s not really my style. So, we compromised and decided to just cut out the bad stuff. It also didn’t hurt that I wanted to try and look my best.”

“Tryin’ to impress someone, Chief?” you teased, kicking his leg playfully with your foot.

“More or less, I guess,” he replied shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at the floor.

“ _Oh_ ,” you breathed, eyes widening in surprise. “Do I…do I know her?”

“I guess you could say that,” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear, shaking his head and waving his hand is dismissal. “But, it’s not important. She definitely doesn’t feel the same way, no matter how much ‘blubber’ I shake off.”

You felt jealously creep up your spine, emotions and a tinge of anger rising in your throat like bile as your brain immediately flew to the image of Joyce Byers, “I mean, if it’s who I think it is, I’m sure she would be lucky to have a man like you in her life.”

He looked up, a smile pulling at his now-parted lips, “S-She would?”

“Well, duh, dipshit,” you chuckled, uncrossing your legs so you could lean forward. “You’re just… _amazing_ , Hop. You know that, right? You’re such an amazing father and, Jesus, I’ve never met a man who is more of a gentleman than you are. And, on occasion, you make half-decent jokes, but don’t let that get to your fat head, okay?”

He laughed, his eyes filling with mirth as he looked over your face carefully while you continued to drawl, “She would be the luckiest woman in the world to have you as a partner.”

“I’d be the luckiest man,” he said softly, his breathing becoming staggered as his fingers itched against his jeans.

“Yeah,” you replied lowly, your chest hurting from the sadness flooding your lungs. “ _Joyce_ …she’s really something special.”

“Joyce?” he asked, narrowing his eyes in confusion as you nodded your head.

“She’s a great mother, really sweet,” you smiled, looking away from him. “She always takes my shifts when I need them covered, so she’s got my approval in. You two would make…you’d be a great team, Hop.”

His face fell, gulping before he breathed out, “ _Oh_.”

The record player suddenly skipped, the soft bass filling the room as _Time After Time_ began to play. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as tears threatened to spill from them.

“You okay, kid?” he asked in concern as you avoided his gaze.

“Peachy keen,” you growled, shaking your head.

You gasped when you felt his hand clasp over yours, the warmth of his palm sending a shock up your arm. You looked up into his eyes, nearly melting at the earnestness behind them and the tiny smile on his face.

“Come on, _one_ dance,” he chuckled, pulling you up to meet him.

You wanted to push him away, and, even though you would inevitably hurt every time you would recall this memory, you couldn’t pull yourself away from him. You rested your head against his chest, your ear pressed right over his heartbeat. His left hand held yours tightly as his right arm wrapped around your waist. A steady rhythm, pure silence save for the music on the record and the sound of your breaths.

_Sometimes you picture me_

_I’m walking too far ahead_

_You’re calling to me_

_I can’t hear what you’ve said_

You shut your eyes tightly, nuzzling your face into the apex of his chest like a kitten searching for warmth. You felt a rogue tear slip down your cheek, immediately causing you to remove your free hand from his shoulder to wipe it away.

He looked down at you, “What’s wrong, kid?”

“I’m not a kid,” you snapped silently, placing your hand back on his shoulder.

“I…I know that. I didn’t mean it like-,” he sighed, shaking his head. “You know I don’t ever mean anything by that, don’t you?”

You sighed, shaking your head, “Y-Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, Jim.”

“You mean a lot more to me than just some kid,” he stated, his eyes boring into yours intensely. “You are… _damn_ , everything about you is amazing to me.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “I literally just told you the same thing. You don’t have to feel obligated to say it back.”

“I’m not obligated,” he whispered, the hand on the small of your back gripping you slightly tighter.

You felt your breath lodge in your throat, his eyes suddenly looking much softer and filled with…what was that? What emotion was hidden behind his stare?

_If you’re lost and you look, then you will find me_

_Time after time_

_If you call, I will catch you, I’ll be waiting_

_Time after time_

“It’s not Joyce is it?” you stuttered out, your chest swelling as you looked down at his lips.

“No,” he shook his head, his eyes darting down to your lips. “No, it’s…it’s not Joyce.”

You swallowed, looking back up at his eyes before chuckling, “You didn’t have to lose weight for me, Hopper.”

“ _Now_ you tell me,” he laughed, rolling his eyes as levity broke the seriousness of your exchange. “Didn’t think you’d want to be with some old, fat fart like me.”

“You’ll always be a fart to me,” you teased. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you, Hop.”

His face nearly split in half with how intense his grin became. He rested his forehead against yours, his hands straying from their positions to cradle your face. You reached your hands up to rub up and down his biceps as you nuzzled your nose against his.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he dipped his face lower, brushing his lips lightly and slowly against yours. You both gasped sharply through your noses, your feet stilling as the world suddenly screeched to a halt. Your lips felt like they had been zapped with electricity, the sparks shooting down each limb of your body. It felt like you were floating, but _he_ kept you grounded. You slotted your lips in between his, darting your tongue out to taste his lower lip before grinning against his mouth. _Delicious_.

He smiled against your grin before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, trailing his mouth along your jaw, “I don’t really know how to say this, but…I’ll cut the theatrics and just say it how it is. I love ya’.”

You laughed quietly, your ears ringing from a mixture of euphoria and excitement, “I love you, too, Hop.”


End file.
